Exaggeration (Ghuluw), the Extremists (Ghulat), and Al-Khasibi’s View on the Tragedy of Karbala

Submitted on Wed, 02/07/2025 - 11:39

Exaggeration (Ghuluw), the Extremists (Ghulat), and Al-Khasibi’s View on the Tragedy of Karbala

Some have defined ghuluw (exaggeration in religion) as: "exceeding the limits and straying from the intended purpose." But this raises a crucial question:

  • What exactly is this "limit" beyond which one is labeled an extremist?
  • Is it saying that ‘Ali is the best of the companions?

  • Or believing that he is the rightful successor to the Prophet (pbhh)?

  • Or maintaining the absolute infallibility of ‘Ali and his descendants?

  • Or affirming that God supported them with miraculous powers?

  • Or having complete certainty in all that was transmitted from and about them?

  • Is this the so-called "exaggeration" which, if one embraces, causes them to be considered deviant or misguided?

If so—as some overly zealous or neglectful individuals have claimed—then many respected scholars and jurists, including Shaykh al-Khasibi and those who share his views, would be counted among the most extreme.

But have the promoters of this accusation forgotten that evidence supporting these doctrinal positions is abundant—to the extent that it is beyond enumeration? These beliefs are found widely across the texts of both Sunni and Shi‘i traditions, narrated by tens of reputable scholars in their most authoritative works.

I say with certainty: they have not forgotten. Rather, it is that their goals justify the means—even when those means involve labeling true believers and people of conviction as disbelievers.

To exceed the limit and deviate from the intended path is not in professing what is true and well-established; rather, it lies—as agreed upon—in deifying the Imams or others, which I believe no one from any side actually holds.

On this solid foundation, the accusation of exaggeration (ghuluw) emerges as an old disease and deep-seated ailment that has long plagued the Muslim ummah. It has served only to alienate its members from one another, opening the door for their bitter enemies to exploit these divisions.

This harmful sickness has clear causes, including:

  1. Disagreements in doctrinal beliefs, which split the ummah into sects and schools of thought.

  2. Internal differences within a single sect, arising from disparities in intellect, understanding, and reasoning.

When one person favors a particular figure over another, it often leads to disputes, accusations of disbelief, and eventual division. Such division fosters the invention of mutual accusations, and I firmly believe that had each party truly reflected on the consequences of their actions, they would never have dared to proceed as they did.

When one denies what the other affirms, the denier ends up accusing the affirmer of heresy, while the affirmer responds by casting doubt on the denier's credibility—a cycle that continues endlessly.

Therefore, ghuluw is an ancient myth, lacking a firm foundation. To accuse someone of it is simply a sign of weakness and impotence—an excuse used by those who have no argument to make, resorting to takfir (declaring others disbelievers) in order to cover up their intellectual bankruptcy.

After this thoughtful preface and insightful definition, I note that some scholars have described the extremist sects (ghulat) as follows:

"They are those who exaggerated concerning the Prophet and his Family to the extent that they removed them from the limits of created beings." 1

The well-known scholar al-Shahrastani (whose impartiality is doubtful and who is known for excessive bias) classified the ghulat into eleven groups, among them the Nusayriyya. He cited their views and beliefs.2

However, scholars such as al-‘Allama Shaykh Ja‘far al-Subhani argue that what al-Shahrastani reported is largely unverified, and he supported his position with many evidences. Quoting one of the scholars, he wrote:

"This is not the first slander recorded in history. Many righteous individuals have had their reputations tarnished, just as many corrupt ones have been praised beyond their worth3 . In reality, we find no actual trace of most, if not all, of these alleged sects on the face of the earth."4

He further stated:

"There is little benefit in researching the ghulat as described by al-Shahrastani and others (such as al-Kashshi and al-Nawbakhti), because the narrators found in the chains of transmission of hadith are free from ghuluw in the sense that would remove them from monotheism and Islam, or classify them among the disbelievers and polytheists."

He then clarified the identity of the group typically known for exaggeration, saying:

"The sect generally labeled as extremist is that of the ‘Mufawwida’ (those who believed that God delegated the universe's affairs to the Imams). But we must examine this belief carefully to distinguish what is accurate from what is fabricated."

 

He explained the meaning of tafwid (delegation) and distinguished between valid and invalid interpretations, adding:

"Those who study the writings of the early scholars will find that many narrators were accused of exaggeration simply based on what they believed about the Imams—even if those beliefs were not exaggerated in any real sense."

He concluded with the testimony of al-Wahid al-Bihbahani in his work Al-Fawa’id al-Rijaliyya, where he says:

al-Rijāliyya":

"Know that it appears that many of the early scholars—especially those from Qumm and al-Ghaḍā'irī—held a particular view regarding the Imams (peace be upon them): they believed in a certain elevated and dignified station for them, and a defined level of infallibility and perfection, based on their own reasoning and interpretation. They did not permit any view that exceeded that limit. Hence, they would label any belief that went beyond this limit as 'exaggeration' (ghulū), according to their own understanding.

They even considered denying forgetfulness (i.e. believing the Imams never forget) as ghulū. They sometimes deemed general tafwīḍ (the belief that God entrusted the Imams with certain affairs), or at least the contested forms of it, to be ghulū. They viewed exaggerations in narrating their miracles, the transmission of extraordinary acts, the veneration of their status, and their freedom from defects, as excessiveness that justified suspicion—especially given that actual ghulāt (extremists) had historically infiltrated the Shī‘a ranks, hiding among them and presenting themselves as part of them."

"In summary, it appears that early scholars differed even on foundational theological issues. What one of them considered corrupt, heretical, exaggerated, or even as predestination (jabr) or anthropomorphism (tashbīh), another might have viewed as obligatory to believe, or at least not blameworthy.

Thus, any scholar conducting serious investigation must scrutinize many of the accusations leveled against respected narrators, because, as is evident, there was no single established standard at the time for distinguishing a ghālī (extremist) from a non-ghālī.5

It is essential to reflect upon their criticisms, especially when such accusations targeted many prominent figures like Yūnus ibn ‘Abd al-Raḥmān, Muḥammad ibn Sinān, al-Mufaḍḍal ibn ‘Umar, and others. This reveals the true nature of their judgments."

He continues:

"It is enough to cite the case of Aḥmad ibn Muḥammad ibn ‘Īsā expelling Aḥmad ibn Muḥammad ibn Khālid al-Barqī from Qumm. Al-Majlisī al-Awwal stated that he expelled a group of individuals from Qumm, and al-Sheikh Muḥammad ibn Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim reported that the people of Qumm would remove a narrator merely on the basis of suspected doubt.

So if this was their approach and consistent habit, how can one rely purely on their disparagements and criticisms without deeper investigation? One must always pause and examine the context of such judgments, and interpret them positively wherever possible. After all, if merely holding a non-necessarily-false belief based on ijtihād (independent reasoning) were grounds for declaring someone unreliable, then many of our senior scholars would also be discredited—for nearly all of them have been attributed with views that appear, on the surface, problematic or even corrupt."

He continues, citing from al-Fawā’id al-Rijāliyya, regarding Aḥmad ibn Muḥammad ibn Nūḥ al-Sīrāfī:

"It has been reported in al-Khulāṣa that Shaykh al-Ṭūsī subscribed to the doctrine of the Waʿīdiyya—those who excommunicate major sinners and believe in their eternal punishment in Hell. He and his teacher al-Mufīd believed that God cannot act contrary to the capacity of His servants—a view attributed to al-Jubbā’ī and al-Sayyid al-Murtaḍā. The Bāhshamiyya claimed His will is an accident (‘araḍ) without a locus. The revered Shaykh Ibrāhīm ibn Nawbakht accepted the idea of God enjoying rational pleasures, that His essence is knowable like His existence, and that He Himself is the existent essence.

Others claimed that non-believers will exit the Fire but not enter Paradise. Al-Ṣadūq, his teacher Ibn al-Walīd, and al-Ṭabarsī believed the Prophet was not immune from forgetfulness. Muḥammad ibn ‘Abd Allāh al-Asadī leaned toward predestination (jabr) and anthropomorphism. There are many such examples to list.

Declaring these scholars as unreliable due to such views is something no God-fearing person would accept."

He continues:

"What I have observed in the writings of our early scholars and the methods of our leading traditionists is that disagreement in matters beyond the five core tenets does not constitute moral corruption (fisq), unless it involves a clear denial of something necessarily known in religion—such as real anthropomorphism, not merely in name, or the assertion of vision of God in a literal or mirrored form.

As for the idea of divine forgetfulness or rational pleasure attributed to God—if interpreted as the desire for perfection because it is inherently good—this too does not warrant judgment of fisq."

He concludes:

"Ibn Ṭāwūs, Naṣīr al-Dīn al-Ṭūsī, Ibn Fahd, al-Shahīd al-Thānī, Shaykh Bahāʾī, my grandfather al-‘Allāma, and other eminent scholars were all associated with taṣawwuf (Sufism). The true danger of Sufism lies in corrupt beliefs—such as incarnation (ḥulūl), unity of existence (waḥdat al-wujūd), or union with God—or in deviant practices contrary to Islamic law which many Sufis engage in during spiritual exercises or worship.

Yet, anyone familiar with the lives and works of these noble scholars knows they are undoubtedly free from both of these forms of corruption. My grandfather, the spiritual master and devout saint, Mawlānā Muḥammad al-Ṣāliḥ al-Māzandarānī, and others were also accused of supporting linguistic ambiguity (ishtirāk al-lafẓ)—which has its own clarification. The Three Muḥammads and al-Ṭabarsī were accused of permitting forgetfulness upon the Prophet, while Ibn al-Walīd and al-Ṣadūq considered denial of forgetfulness to be ghulū (exaggeration)."

"In summary, most of the leading scholars were not entirely free from similar controversial attributions. This makes it necessary to scrutinize accusations of ghulū or heretical belief when they are based merely on the assertions of rijāl (biographical) scholars without examining the full circumstances."

After reading all of this, we turn to the words of the scholar al-Zamakhsharī, who said of himself:

"I am astonished by this age and its people—no one is safe from the tongues of men." [Poetry]


What has become clear to us from reviewing these statements is the following:

Most scholars of ‘Ilm al-Rijāl (biographical evaluation), or those from whom the rijāl scholars transmitted, did not possess a defined or consistent standard for weakening a narrator on doctrinal grounds. Rather, whenever a narrator’s beliefs did not conform to their own, they would accuse him of ghulū (extremism) or doctrinal deviation. And it is entirely possible that the one casting such accusations was himself mistaken in his creed—such that, if we were to examine his own beliefs, we might judge them to be in error.

At times, the scholar might come across narrations in the narrator’s book which the narrator merely transmitted without personally believing in them. Yet, the critic might assume that the narrator endorsed the content of those reports and thus attribute those beliefs to him. Similarly, suspicion may arise if members of deviant sects falsely claim a narrator as one of their own, even if he was not actually affiliated with them.

In summary:
A narrator’s reliability cannot be justifiably undermined on the basis of doctrine unless two conditions are firmly established:

  1. That the belief attributed to him is indeed one that entails fisq (moral corruption or deviation).

  2. That the narrator actually held this belief.

And how rarely can both be proven!

As for the first condition, it is challenged by the very existence of disputes among scholars over many theological issues—such as the Prophet’s forgetfulness (sahw) (which some see as negligence) or the notion of tafwīḍ (delegation of divine authority), in some of its interpretations, which others see as excessive.

As for the second condition, establishing it is extremely difficult—especially considering the behaviors of some rijāl scholars who expelled or discredited others simply for narrating from weak sources, even when the narrators themselves were trustworthy. Unless both of these conditions are clearly and rigorously proven, such doctrinal criticisms of narrators should be disregarded.6

Therefore, takfīr (declaring someone a disbeliever) is not valid in the case of derivative beliefs or secondary theological details—even if they pertain to broader fundamental principles—unless the belief in question fundamentally contradicts the core of accepted doctrine or invalidates it entirely.

For example:
Tawḥīd (monotheism) is an undisputed foundational principle. Denial of it constitutes pure disbelief. To affirm a partner to God contradicts it. Whoever makes such a claim is a mushrik (polytheist), and his credibility is to be doubted and challenged.

If it is proven that he believes in what he narrates, then he is to be judged as a polytheist and disbeliever. But if it is not proven that he believes in it, then he is only to be judged as mistaken for transmitting something that contradicts his professed beliefs.


As for the discussion on the Divine Attributes (ṣifāt), it does not warrant takfīr (excommunication or declaring someone a disbeliever) unless it involves likening the Creator to the creation, attributing incapacity to Him, or ascribing to Him what is unbefitting of His Essence. Other than that, the matter is best left untouched—because delving into it leads to numerous complications and a unique dilemma that could result in there being no believer among Muslims, and no Muslim among creation.

This is because those who speak on the Divine Attributes fall into various groups:

  • Some say the attributes are identical to the Divine Essence (ʿayn al-dhāt).

  • Some say they are distinct from the Essence.

  • Some say they are neither identical to nor distinct from the Essence.

Thus, the wisest and safest course is to avoid making this issue a criterion for assessing the narrator’s reliability, so long as he believes in God, His Messenger, and the Last Day; affirms the guardianship (wilāyah) of the Commander of the Faithful and his infallible descendants; and submits to them and their authority.

Similarly, Prophethood is an indisputable foundational principle. Whoever denies it, or rejects one of its essential components—such as divine revelation (waḥy) or infallibility (ʿiṣmah)—is not to be considered a Muslim.

As for the issue of infallibility—whether complete or partial—or the belief in the Prophet’s immunity from forgetfulness (sahw) or lack thereof, it does not necessitate takfīr (excommunication) or tafsīq (declaring someone a sinner). Rather, it calls for a precise definition of the terms used, in light of the context to which they apply.

Similarly, the weakness of a narrator does not justify disparagement, as is the habit of many. Nor does a narrator’s transmission from a weak source indicate his own unreliability—except to those already weak in their methodology. It is entirely possible for a narrator to transmit a sound report from a weak narrator. Should this render him unreliable? Or if he transmits a questionable narration for a particular purpose, without believing in its content—does that merit labeling him as corrupt?

The causes must be examined first, and only then can a ruling be made—free of bias and ulterior motives.

Indeed, the proper criterion for scrutinizing and authenticating narrations is the Book of God, the Sunnah of His Messenger, and the path of the Infallible Imams (peace be upon them), not the limited intellects or personal inclinations of men. To rely on the latter leads to the denial of essentials.

As for the blind imitation (taqlīd) in the authentication or discrediting of narrators, it is invalid for several reasons:7

  1. Most of the authors in the science of rijāl (biographical evaluation) are not superior to those they evaluated. To the discerning mind, the less virtuous does not evaluate the more virtuous; rather, it should be the opposite.

  2. Some based their assessments solely on their own beliefs. This kind of evaluation is unreliable, for if the critic’s own creed is flawed, the outcome will be uncertain, and the person being judged may be wronged.

  3. Some never even met the individual they assessed, relying merely on hearsay. Such an approach is inherently invalid.

  4. Some judged a narrator based on whether his narrations aligned with their own theological positions or not, which is a deeply flawed method.

  5. Most of them simply transmitted the opinions of earlier scholars—who themselves often fell into the aforementioned categories.

Thus, the only acceptable and legitimate form of taqlīd is that of the Infallibles (maʿṣūmīn). Yet this is a difficult path, as it requires verification of the authenticity of the narrations concerning each individual, which in turn demands independent reasoning (ijtihād) based on thorough knowledge of the narrator’s background—his doctrine, reports, words, and deeds.

However, this also poses significant difficulty, as ijtihād comes with conditions and requirements that few can truly fulfill. Therefore, the safest and most accessible path is to surrender to God with a sound heart, maintain good opinion of the People of Wilāyah (Divinely Appointed Guardians), and refrain from delving into complicated paths that may lead to regrettable consequences.


In conclusion to this study, I say:

This is the state of accusations among the scholars and jurists within the same sect. As for the accusations exchanged between scholars of different sects, as we clarified, merely holding the view that Ali was the best of the Companions or believing in his infallibility would lead one to be branded as extremist, a heretic, or a clear misled person—especially during the Abbasid era, which surpassed its predecessor in the tyranny of its rulers and the fanaticism of its jurists. It became clear to us that the so-called “extremism,” as claimed by its accusers, has no basis for existence, nor is there any sect that actually professes it. Rather, it was a stigma attached to anyone opposing the politics of that time and the kings of that era. Even if we concede, for argument’s sake, its existence, it is certainly not the Qarmatians historically known—these two accusations cannot be combined in one person. Sheikh Al-Khusaibi is among the farthest from these accusations due to the purity of his Islamic creed and the correctness of his Alawite loyalty. Anyone who reviews the well-established and authenticated “Al-Hidayah Al-Kubra” from reliable sources will see that this venerable Sheikh was a follower, not an innovator, and he never uttered a word except after verifying that it was attributed to his infallible Imams. The truthful narrations he included in it are purely his belief, evidenced by the fact that he authored it with a tranquil heart and without caution. This occurred during the Hamdanid dynasty era, known for its rulers’ firm adherence to the unbreakable bond of the Wilaya of the Ahl al-Bayt.

After this statement, supported by evidence and proof, I say: it is shameful and disgraceful that some writers—indeed most of them—rely on what is stated in the book “History of the Alawis” by Muhammad Amin Ghalib Al-Tawil regarding Sheikh Al-Khusaibi, knowing well among fair-minded people that Al-Tawil drew his information from his Turkish and French masters, who dictated to him this flawed history full of fabrications, which has no relation to the truth and cannot be relied upon as a historical source due to its contradiction with reality. We will prove this fact in another book, which we have briefly touched upon previously for those with an open mind.

Among the accusations maliciously attached to the Sheikh is the claim that he held a “private opinion on the event of Karbala,” suggesting that Imam Hussein was not truly killed but rather was raised to heaven by God, as was done with Jesus son of Mary. I do not know where those who spread this slander obtained their information, or who inspired them with it, as if they wanted to say that the Sheikh deviated from the scholars of his time regarding the concept of Imamate.

Here, I must say that the Sheikh’s view on the martyrdom of Imam Hussein and his stance on the tragic event of Karbala is very clear and aligns with the narrators of hadith and the scholars of the Imami jurists. Whoever wishes to delve deeper should read this report to see the matter clarified:


Al-Husayn ibn Hamdan al-Khasibi, may God honor his station, said:

Abu al-Husayn Muhammad ibn Ali al-Farsi narrated to me from Abu Basir, from Abu Ja’far al-Baqir (peace be upon him), who said:

When Husayn ibn Ali intended to depart for al-Sham (Syria), Umm Salama—who had raised him and was the dearest and most compassionate person to him—sent him a message. She held a sealed vial containing some of Husayn’s soil, which the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him and his family) had entrusted to her. The Prophet had told her: “If my son leaves for Iraq, keep this vial before your eyes, and if the soil inside turns into clotted blood, know that my son Husayn has been killed.”

She asked him, “Did the Prophet mention to you that you would go to Iraq?”

He replied, “Why do you ask, Umm Salama?”

She said, “I heard the Prophet say: ‘My son Husayn will be killed in Iraq.’ And I have, my son, your soil in this sealed vial, which the Prophet gave me.”

Husayn said, “O Umm Salama, I am surely destined to be killed. How can I escape fate, the inevitable decree, and the command of God Almighty?”

She said, “How astonishing! Where can you go while you are destined to be killed?”

He said, “O Umm, if I do not go today, I will go tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then the day after. There is no escape from death. By God, O Umm, I know the day I will be killed, the hour I will be carried, the grave where I will be buried. I know my killers, my enemies, those who will bring me down, the driver, the commander, the instigator, who will kill me and who will incite him, and who among my family and followers will be killed, one by one. I have counted them, and I know them by name, tribe, and clan as well as I know you. And if you wish, I will show you the place of my death and burial.”

She said, “I wish that.”

Then he invoked God’s name, and the earth humbled itself so that she could see his resting place, his grave, and the place of his companions. He gave her some of the soil she had kept.

Then Husayn said to her, “O Umm, I will be killed on the day of Ashura, on a Saturday.”

Umm Salama counted the days and awaited the day of Ashura. When that night came, Husayn was killed. She then saw in a dream a disheveled, dusty, weeping man who said, “I have buried Husayn and his companions at this hour.”

Umm Salama woke up and cried out loudly. The people of Medina gathered and asked her what was wrong.

She said, “Husayn ibn Ali and his companions have been killed.”

They said, “Nonsense, these are just dreams.”

She said, “Stay where you are, for I have the soil of Husayn.” She then brought out the vial, which had turned into clotted blood.

They counted the days and found that Husayn had indeed been killed on that day.

(Source: Al-Hidayah al-Kubra, pp. 203–204)


If a fair-minded person reflects on this authentic narration, which appears in numerous references,8 they will understand al-Khisibi’s position on the tragedy of Karbala and realize that it aligns with the consensus of other scholars.

I draw the reader’s attention to the fact that the word “killing” (or “murder”) appears eleven times in this narration. For further detailed study, one should refer to Al-Hidayah to benefit and to refute every stubborn liar and ignorant fool.

 

  • 1We would have hoped that this scholar had clarified for us: what exactly are “the limits of created beings” (hudūd al-makhlūqāt)—so that we may know when someone is said to have transgressed them in what they believe about the Imams, based on what they have verified from the authentic reports transmitted by the trustworthy? Is it considered exaggeration (ghuluw) to say that the Imams are above all other created beings but below the Creator? Or to believe that they can perform acts which others are incapable of? Or that God has granted them unique attributes which He did not grant to anyone else? Or was what he meant by "the limits of created beings" the claim that the Imams are pre-eternal (not created) or necessary in existence? If that is the case, then no Alawite affirms such a notion. As for the first perspective—which concerns affirming their unique traits and sublime virtues—this is precisely the belief held by Shaykh al-Khasibi and his followers, founded upon firm principles and unshakable foundations, and grounded in the belief that: "They are honored servants."
  • 2Al-Shahrastānī cannot be blamed for his statements, for it is his sectarian bias that dictates his judgments. Had the Nuṣayrīs adopted his own beliefs, he would have classified them among the luminaries and guardians of the Sharīʿa. But they will never attain such a status—neither in his eyes nor in the eyes of others—because they will never exchange their ʿAlawī creed for a Nāṣibī one.
  • 3Such as our revered Shaykh, whose life and legacy we are currently discussing and drawing blessings from.
  • 4This is what we have clarified and substantiated in several places in our book “The ʿAlawī Muslims: Between the Fabrications of the Pens and the Injustice of the Rulers”, in which we affirmed that most of the sects mentioned in books on sects and creeds have no real existence—their presence exists only in the imagination of their authors.
  • 5General Principles in the Science of Rijāl (Narrators).
  • 6General Principles in the Science of Rijāl (Narrators).
  • 7Except for the trustworthy individuals whose faith and integrity are beyond doubt.
  • 8This narration was reported by the distinguished scholar Muhammad Baqir al-Majlisi in Bihar al-Anwar, quoting al-Qutb al-Rawandi. It was also narrated by the investigator al-Muhaqqiq al-Bahbahani in Al-Dam’ah al-Sakibah, and by Sheikh al-Khisibi, the author of Sahifat al-Abrar, among others.